


i'll hold your hands, they're just like ice

by darkesky



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Drowning, F/F, Fire Emblem: Three Houses Black Eagles Route, Hypothermia, M/M, Snow Day
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-05
Updated: 2020-04-05
Packaged: 2021-03-01 17:28:00
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,623
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23500822
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/darkesky/pseuds/darkesky
Summary: He bucked, and Caspar went spiraling through the air.As he fell downwards, he caught the glint of his axe. Beneath it, the ice had fractured outwards like a spiderweb. Caspar windmilled his arms, trying to land at least somewhat up, trying to remember what Shamir said about landing on his feet. Maybe if he landed light enough, it’d be fine—Sucking in a deep breath, he braced himself for impact. As his armor slapped against the ice, it took only a second for the ice to completely give in. Then, everything was cold, wet, dark.---A snow day goes awry for the Black Eagles.
Relationships: Caspar von Bergliez/Linhardt von Hevring
Comments: 3
Kudos: 57





	i'll hold your hands, they're just like ice

**Author's Note:**

> Another fic of me trying to get a vibe for the Black Eagle house! This WILL have spoilers for chapters 9 and 10 of the game so heads up about that! But also, I've DEFINITELY fallen in love with the Black Eagles just as much as the Blue Lions. Here's hoping the Golden Deer will be just as much fun!

The first flakes of snow fell last night at the same time the goddess decided to destroy the land. When he tried to bring that up to Linhardt, the other boy gave him a look before shoving him back down on the pillow. Whatever ‘thundersnow’ is? Caspar could have gone his  _ entire life  _ without seeing it! 

Still, he wanted to run outside and start playing with what the storm left behind. It wasn’t a lot of snow, but it  _ was  _ a ‘snow day.’ Professor Byleth declared so last night with her watery eyes and red nose, and they all pretended the snow closed down school, not Jeralt’s death. He could’ve tramped around with the snow all day…  _ But  _ Edelgard declared they should train as a class instead since it  _ was  _ a Tuesday.

As they gathered outside the Black Eagle house, he cast a look around at his classmates.  _ None  _ of them brought proper snow gear. His father told him it rarely snowed at Garreg Mach, but when it did, it got cold. Caspar brushed it off because what could cold do? He’d just work up a sweat, and then he wouldn’t be cold!

Still, over their armor and uniforms, they wore whatever coats they brought with them. Petra and Caspar probably came the least prepared while Dorothea wore a full fur-lined jacket one of her patrons got her and Linhardt still kept a blanket draped over his shoulders.

“Are you sure this is the smartest idea?” fretted Ferdinand. He unbuttoned his coat and offered it to Petra, who blinked several times before grabbing it. As she buried herself in the oversized jacket, she flashed a thumbs up at him.

At Dorothea’s questioning look, Petra nodded solemnly. “Caspar has taught me the way of the ‘thumbs up.’ He is saying it is a ritual.”

“Did he now?” Dorothea nudged Caspar, who offered a bright smile before bounding back over to Linhardt. 

Edelgard gave them a stern look, and he only grinned harder. She needed to loosen up! “In regards to Ferdinand’s question, why wouldn’t this be an effective way to train? One day, we all may be soldiers during wintertime, and it’s necessary we know how to deal with snow and ice.” 

“Still, no teacher supervision?” As they started to walk towards the gates, he glanced in the other classrooms. Hanneman taught the Blue Lions diligently… But Ashe turned around, and Caspar stuck out his tongue at him. Ashe grinned before looking away. Manuela presided over the Golden Deer, even though all of them watched out the window. “We could perhaps combine classes with one of the others.”

“We will split up into two teams. I have already secured an area to train,” Hubert said instead of addressing Ferdinand. He glanced between them with a smile. Caspar bounced on his heels as they walked out of Garreg Mach. Considering Hubert only needed to nod at the gatekeeper, they must’ve talked about this beforehand. Maybe this training session wasn’t  _ completely  _ dependent on the snow.

Linhardt sighed next to him. “I’d rather be napping. If we get in trouble from this, it will be a whole mess.”

“I don’t think we’ll get in trouble!” Caspar said, and Linhardt wrinkled his nose.

His best friend walked a little closer to him. Caspar crouched down somewhat, and Linhardt clambered on his back. “Thanks. Walking to some empty field really is too tiresome for me to bother.”

“This way you can nap!” After all, he didn’t get a lot of sleep last night. When Caspar knocked on his door, he might’ve already been fast asleep, but afterwards, he spent the whole time talking about Crests or some other nonsense which went over Caspar’s head. He fell asleep like that. 

Petra glanced over. “Is this another ritual of Fodlan?”

“No, it isn’t—”

“Can I get a piggyback ride, Petra?” Dorothea interrupted.

She cocked her head, her braid swinging. “What is this… Ride of the piggy?”

“What we’re doing!” Caspar said, boosting Linhardt up higher. His friend grumbled before burying his head in his shoulder. It couldn’t have been comfortable; Edelgard told all of them to come prepared in their armor. Linhardt donned the silks of a bishop, and he donned only a little armor. Mages needed to be light on their feet. Caspar would’ve been an  _ awful  _ mage… He needed all the armor to keep from getting hurt!

Petra took a second to consider and then let Dorothea climb up. She cackled the whole time while Ferdinand kept his eyes averted, a blush starting to build. Caspar debated making a comment about nobility.

The eight of them continued to trudge. Every once and a while, Ferdinand needed to prod Bernadetta to keep pace. At this point, though, the archer decided it was too far to head back alone. Caspar couldn’t understand how her mind worked. Every time he  _ tried  _ to understand, she screamed a little louder, and he gave up.

Edelgard cleared her throat. “We are almost there, so this is the proper time to start declaring the teams. We did this in a way to  _ hopefully  _ balance the teams. However, it was difficult because many of us have different talents.”

“As long as we are on opposite teams, then it will be balanced,” Ferdinand offered his most charming smile to Edelgard.

Hubert sighed. “Yes, of course, we didn’t put you on the same team in fear of friendly fire.”

“Team one will be led by myself. The three people on my team are Hubert, Caspar, and Petra. Team two will be led by Ferdinand, and he will have Linhardt, Bernadetta, and Dorothea.” Edelgard spared a glance at Caspar and Petra. With something which  _ might  _ be a smile, she nodded. “You might want to separate now. One of you has a wyvern to mount.”

“A wyvern…?” Caspar almost threw off Linhardt in his excitement. “Did you bring Glory with you?”

“Not your particular wyvern, just like Ferdinand doesn’t have his particular stallion. We thought it best you learn how to ride  _ others  _ as well.” Edelgard paused as they finally,  _ finally  _ reached the field. 

Linhardt lifted his head and hummed. “Not exactly the practice field from the mock battle, is it?”

“It’s a little… Flashier,” Dorothea answered.

Petra hummed. “But I am not seeing the brightness.”

“It’s a phrase… It’s very pretty. We should’ve celebrated Garreg Mach Establishment Day out here.” She flared her arm around at the dense amount of trees. Caspar wondered if this was where they cut down the tree they put in the main hall. He didn’t go to the dance for very long—Linhardt made a comment about being tired by everyone dancing with him, and something in Caspar’s vision went red, and he stormed out—but he  _ definitely  _ remembered the tree there.

Edelgard smiled. “Perhaps we should have. We can revisit that idea in five years.”

Then, Hubert gave her a pointed look, and all of them stared at the duo. While they  _ all  _ knew Edelgard constantly planned something, they also knew she kept it under wraps. That was a blatant reference to something they didn’t understand.

But Caspar didn’t  _ want  _ to understand.

He let Linhardt off his back gently before taking a deep breath and charging over to the wyvern by the treeline. It startled and squawked, its mighty wings flailing out and threatening to knock down the trees around it. He stuttered to a stop, practically falling face first into the snow. The wyvern  _ he  _ trained on, Glory, was old. She didn’t startle easily, but she was bold and brave and  _ loved  _ going into battle.

This one seemed… Skittish. 

Someone clapped him on the shoulder, and Caspar startled, spinning around. Hubert offered a smile. “Better get used to it fast.”

-

The new wyvern kept threatening to buck him off. Caspar dug his heels into the saddle, curled his fingers in until his knuckles turned white. The other one clutched his axe, which trailed in the sky behind him. Getting up in the air was an…  _ Experience.  _

Now, he just needed to convince her to go into the forest. 

Petra hesitated before, hands still clamped around her bow. He can tell she shuddered from the cold though. “Caspar, are you… Okay?”

“Yeah! Totally! Just need to get him into  _ gear!”  _ He dug his heel into the wyvern’s flank, the universal sign to go forward. The wyvern balked at the touch and did an elaborate loop, trying to throw him and alerting  _ all of the other side  _ where they were. Caspar cursed as he tried to press him downwards.

Hubert cursed loudly before sending a spell in front of them. The gust of purple magic sent his wyvern spiraling again, this time at the ground. Caspar barely managed to convince him to pull up in time, and he groaned under his breath. This was  _ impossible.  _ Every time he suggested hopping off and fighting with the gauntlets he still carried around with him, Hubert and Edelgard both refused.

The dark mage appeared by his side, probably with magic, and he grimaced. “Caspar, we are  _ trying  _ to stage a mock battle. Instead of making a mockery of this whole event, could you put in your best effort?”

“I  _ am.  _ Talk to him!” Caspar gestured down at the wyvern. 

Hubert lifted an eyebrow. “Figure it out.”

“Why didn’t you just bring  _ Glory?  _ Where did you even find him?” moaned Caspar. He couldn’t even remember seeing this one in the stables before. If he talked to Ingrid about it, she might know where he came from. That girl spent just as much time near the pegasi Ferdinand spent with the horses.

With one last dark look, Hubert started creating the spell to teleport away. “Figure. It. Out. We don’t keep you around to be dead weight. And if you can’t keep up with fighting, there won’t be much of a purpose keeping you around anymore.”

“I’m trying!” Caspar shouted after him.

Edelgard’s voice cut across the open space, and she started to change the plans. Judging by the way the three kept staring at him, they all recognized the change of plans  _ came from  _ this stupid wyvern’s inability to do  _ anything.  _ Caspar wanted to scream, but he knew that wouldn’t go over any better.

“Stealth is no longer in the picture. We are going to charge at them and hopefully catch them off guard. Hubert, I want you to target Dorothea. Petra and I will target Bernadetta. And Caspar, get Linhardt out.”

“Linhardt?” Caspar muttered under his breath. That would be easy enough. He just needed to get enough control to fly over the terrain; if he could master this wyvern that well, he could hop off and fight Linhardt with his fists… He could even say it was strategic! Maybe he would fly away too, and he wouldn’t have to think about it anymore! 

Shamir could help him figure out how to master this wyvern later. 

Lowering his voice, he tried to pet the wyvern’s neck. He swirled sharply, and he quickly stopped doing  _ that.  _ “C’mon, buddy, just… Just get me over to Linhardt, and then you can fly off into the sunset or some shit.  _ Please.” _

“Caspar!”

“I’m going!” Okay, he can go for it. Caspar started to nudge the wyvern forward, inch by inch. The creature opposed every single movement, but as they went around the forest, he managed to catch sight of Linhardt. The healer sat on the top of a hill, his blanket bunched around the tree he sat. While he still observed the people fighting, his staff barely clenched in his hand, he could’ve dropped off to sleep soon.

Ferdinand caught sight of Edelgard and laughed, pushing towards her. Dorothea rode on the back of his horse as well, eyes sharp and calculating as she started to send off shots of thunder at them.

Hearing the thunder, the wyvern practically sent him towards Linhardt. By the time he neared, his best friend climbed to his feet. He leant his staff against the wall and took a deep breath, sighing.

Then, Linhardt’s face hardened. “Caspar, I don’t want to fight. Just tap me, and I’ll say you won this practice battle.”

“I want an actual challenge,” he whined. Linhardt lobbed a wind spell to the left of him, lazily and purposefully meant to miss. Gritting his teeth, he forced the wyvern to charge straight into it. It sent the two of them spiraling back, hovering over the frozen lake. Caspar offered a toothy grin. “I’ll make you win this if you keep throwing this!”

“You can’t be serious,” grumbled Linhardt. Clapping his hands together, he summoned a fire spell and sent it straight up. “I slipped.”

“C’mon, Lin! It can be fun! I don’t know why you’re so against fighting!” Caspar puffed out his chest. Then, deliberately, he fumbled with the axe and dropped it into the lake before. Something cracked, but he was too busy cackling to really hear it. “I slipped!”

“You’re an idiot.” Still, he threw another spell at him. This time, he couldn’t convince the wyvern to fly into the spell. It whistled right overhead, parting Caspar’s hair, and he practically  _ felt  _ the iciness seeping into his bones. 

He lifted his short axe out of the pouch on the wyvern’s flank. “See? Wasn’t that exciting?”

“No. It wasn’t.” Then, Linhardt paused.

From behind him, Ferdinand forced his horse closer. He made an arm gesture Caspar didn’t quite understand. Linhardt turned around, head cocked, but while Ferdinand’s mouth moved, he couldn’t make out any of the words.

Then, an arrow was flying at him.

Caspar whooped in excitement. If Bernadetta started going after him, this might be a real game! It’d be easy enough to dodge too! She must be trying to curve her shot, and he knew the farther the range, the worse she did. He pushed his wyvern forward to make sure it wouldn’t graze his flank.

The wyvern caught sight of the arrow, though, and made a different plan. It made a screeching noise, loud enough all other sounds of battle died off. He kept screeching even as Caspar laid a hand on his neck, trying desperately to soothe him. Edelgard would kill him if he failed another one of their plans! And things were just starting to get good! He couldn’t let Bernadetta just win like—

He bucked, and Caspar went spiraling through the air.

As he fell downwards, he caught the glint of his axe. Beneath it, the ice had fractured outwards like a spiderweb. Caspar windmilled his arms, trying to land at least somewhat up, trying to remember what Shamir said about landing on his feet. Maybe if he landed light enough, it’d be fine—

His boot slipped off before he hit the ground, and the weight of his boot gave way to another sinister crackling noise. With a gasp, he realized what was about to happen. None of them had another flying steed, none of them could use rescuing magic. He was…

Sucking in a deep breath, he braced himself for impact. As his armor slapped against the ice, it took only a second for the ice to completely give in. Then, everything was cold, wet, dark.

Stiffness invaded his muscles at the same time as the cold. Regardless, he tried to lunge upwards, hand clawing for the opening he just crashed through. Instead, his armored gloves felt only the harsh underside of the ice. It shot needles through his fingers, and Caspar hissed. Bubbles burst out of his mouth. A little too late, he realized he needed to keep his mouth shut as tight as possible. 

Then, another force started to curl around his ankles and his torso. The heavy armor he donned kept pulling him farther and farther down. As he scrambled over his armor, he tried to pull off the straps. Maybe that way, he wouldn’t be sinking so fast. Yet, even when the plate started to float to the bottom, his chest continued to feel like something pressed against him. He… He needed to  _ breathe. _

Kicking his feet, he tried to lunge up again. And again, he only felt the ice and the cold. Wincing, he pulled his hand back. The water resisted his every movement, but he tried to push faster and faster. Exhaustion started to settle around him; this must be what Linhardt feels  _ all of the time.  _

His fist hit against the ice, but it didn’t so much as shatter. 

Caspar couldn’t feel his fingers anymore. His lungs ached in his chest. But he tried again. And again. And even when he couldn’t breathe anymore, even as his vision went black, even when his fingers and toes and feet and arms went numb, he knew he had to keep trying. If he simply gave up, he’d die and… And Caspar didn’t want to die. 

And he’d keep trying until he couldn’t. Again and again and… Again… And…

And…

-

Caspar woke up puking. Water gushed from his lips, all over him, and his whole body convulsed with the weight of each breath. His chest felt like it was collapsing in on itself, and his arms trembled as he tried to hold himself up. When he stopped spitting up water, he started choking on oxygen. He couldn’t, he couldn’t, he  _ couldn’t— _

“Hey, hey, you’re okay. You’re okay now, Caspar. Deep breaths. You’ve got this, you’ve… Everything’s okay,” someone rambled in his ear. While he  _ knew  _ he should recognize the voice, he couldn’t. His mind felt as foggy as the rest of his body. The crushing pain started to fade out and get replaced with that misty feeling. His body wasn’t shuddering nearly as bad anymore, it was... __

When he tried to respond, he choked again. 

Then, someone cupped his face, and he leant into the warmth. Something green sparked in the corner of his vision; he started to list into someone rubbing his back. “I can’t advise you to fall asleep right now. First, we need to get you warm and out of this armor.”

That voice…  _ That voice was the voice he recognized. _

Between his numb lips, he managed to croak out the name… Or at least most of the name. “Lin?”

“Who else would come to you?” Linhardt’s healing touch roamed his body, and as his touch left, someone else started fumbling with the clasps of his armor. They fell into the snow around him, and he practically curled into Linhardt. As he twisted his head, he made out a mass of brown hair.

He wrinkled his nose, trying to figure out who it was. Something murky finally emerged in his memory. “Dorothea?”

“Of course.” She turned her head slightly to offer a smile. 

Then, someone else started to pull him up. Caspar flailed out, reaching for Linhardt again. He started to cry out, but his best friend appeared by his side in a second. With a sigh, Linhardt started speaking in a low voice. The person who held him jolted a little before propping him up somewhere… As Caspar drooped forward, he recognized some kind of fur. An animal? A… Wyvern? No. Wyverns don’t have fur… Do they?

A weight settled on his back. The fur encompassed him, and Caspar tried to pull it tighter to him. It’s someone else’s coat, but he couldn’t recall who it was. He knew it was important though, and Caspar was dripping wet like some… Kitten they pulled out of the stream. “Lin… Linhardt…?”

“You’re making me ride a horse… I need a long nap after this.” Linhardt slid forward, and his legs wrapped around Caspar’s. As the other boy grabbed the reins of the horse, he settled against Caspar. He squirmed back from the horse and into Linhardt instead. His whole body shuddered.

He reached blindly for Linhardt’s hand. “‘M cold. And wet.”

“Really? I hadn’t noticed,” he deadpanned.

Caspar nodded mostly to himself, the exhaustion sweeping through his body. “But you’re warm.”

“I know I am. Ferdinand, can you start guiding the horse back to Garreg Mach? The sooner we get to Manuela, the better.” Linhardt yawned. “I might’ve exhausted my healing magic.”

“And that was very noble of you—” Ferdinand’s voice started to fade out to a drone, and Caspar realized distantly he was dozing off. 

-

He woke up when something cold danced across his skin. Caspar twisted in the bed— _ when did he get in a bed?— _ and caught sight of Linhardt. He started to pull at the sheets cocooned around Caspar, but he tried to bury it around him. With a scowl, Linhardt pulled harder.

Caspar blinked groggily. As he went to say something, he raised a hand and shook his head. Then, he collapsed beside him. His limbs landed over Caspar, pressing him closer and closer. Pushing the sheets and blankets back up, Linhardt yawned and pressed into the pillow. “You owe me a nap.”

“Are we cuddling?” Caspar mumbled.

He snorted. “I’m keeping you warm since you almost drowned. Next time, try and avoid that, okay?”

“I wasn’t trying,” he said. 

He felt him nod against him. “I know. Still.” 

They laid in silence, and Caspar tried to blink the sleep out of his eyes. He knew he wouldn’t be able to last much longer. Still, he kept his eyes focused outside the window in a desperate attempt to hold onto something. But Linhardt was so warm, and the whole bed felt  _ comfortable.  _ “Linhardt…?”

“Yes?” he hummed. His arms tightened around him. 

Caspar tried to find the words. “I’m… I…”

“Spit it out, Caspar. The faster you say it, the faster the two of us can sleep,” he murmured.

“I love you,” he said quickly.

Linhardt laughed. “I know. I love you too.”

**Author's Note:**

> So here's the whole second part of the fic that didn't make it in because it's all in Caspar's POV, and maybe I'll elaborate on it. Byleth took the day off because of Jeralt's death. Edelgard and Hubert had a bigger scheme in play (that's why the wyvern has never been at Garreg Mach before. Or trained. At all.), but they miscalculated with how badly Caspar could ride a wyvern. 
> 
> ALSO unrelated - the Black Eagles is the gay house and you can't convince me otherwise (Hubert x Ferdinand, Edelgard x F!Byleth, Caspar x Linhardt, Petra x Dorothea, Bernadetta x Happiness) - also I recruited Sylvain and Felix to really hammer that home.


End file.
